In the actual wake of Harvey’s devastation and Irma’s forthcoming, it’s simple and hard to help all at the same time. Never in human history has it been easier to give financially in support. You can literally text it. Houston Texans’ J.J. Watt has raised over $28 Million. Which also happens to be his PR in the clean and jerk. Of course, it’s always a little harder to be boots on the ground. Or, in this case, dingies in the river.

I can’t seem to do either.

And, in that sense I relate to Joel Osteen. Or at least the social media caricature of a man like Joel Osteen. Osteen is the pastor of the, ironically named, Lakewood Church, in Houston. He came under Twitter rage and other media scrutiny last week for failing to have his church open to shelter victims of Hurricane Harvey. A clear missed opportunity by someone to headline the story, “Floodgate,” in traditional scandal parlance.

Joel and I share a lot in common actually. 4:1 hairproduct-to-head ratio. An infinity smile. He probably has like 15 checkbooks; I can barely balance mine.

You have to be ready to be helpful. It’s not something you just become when help is needed. In attitude and priority, you have to prepare to be useful. Flexibility to respond. Assets to give. An attitude to serve.

People are at my door too. I just can’t ever seem to be ready. I get it, Joel. I really do.

Written and performed by sintax.the.terrific. Produced by Beatowski.

Today’s blong here:

The Book of Joel


Two Minutes of Fame

I live directly in the Path of Totality (Greenville, SC), which I’m pretty sure is an Alice in Chains album. We’ve been a recently growing and popular destination for industry and the arts and cyclists and beards. Now even major galactic bodies are coming to see what all the buzz is about. So, I’d like to be the first to welcome the moon’s shadow to GVegas. We’ll probably start a religious-themed pub for you called “My Coffee Black” or a walking trail in your wake unironically named the “Bike Path of Totality.”

So, today is really great and all. I’m super into celestial events. In fact, I’m specifically hoping to either burn in my retinas or be taken up in a UFO hiding in the moon’s umbra. But if you think about it, an eclipse is mostly a failed cosmic coup. It’s literally the story of a dead, useless thing trying to supplant the shine of one of the most wildly powerful, life-giving live things. And, not surprsiingly, it fails miserably. It has no combustion or luminescence of its own. And, then right at totality, the moon must come to this horrible realization that it’s become literally invisible to the world without any independent source of light. All it has to show for is the sad and utter darkness of its own shadow. And, then, again, the light prevails. It’s like the moon’s two minutes of fame. Or shame.

Sounds about right.

So Happy Eclipse Day!

Oh and I’d like to welcome Beatowski to the song blogging experience. I plan to bless his free instrumentals mercilessly with rap news.

Performed by sintax.the.terrific. Music produced by Beatowski.


Deep Impact

So the government has announced a special operations exercise called Jade Helm 15. It will run from July 15 through September 15 of this year in various southwestern states, including Texas, New Mexico, and California. It will ostensibly involve tactical maneuvering of military personnel in civilian settings, like neighborhoods and homes.

jade helm

In this same basic footprint, Walmarts have been mysteriously closing various stores for “plumbing” concerns. That’s some systemic dysentery. I’m sort of an expert on Walmart bathrooms and may be partially responsible. I could have seen this coming. It’s not good. But, the deep web has speculated that the stores are being converted for processing centers when martial law is eventually declared.

I personally suspect Obama is trying to monopolize their always low prices. Just like him.

[Street Legal: In wartime or “states of insurrection,” the United States Government or the Governor’s of the respective states can declare martial law and substitute military tribunals for civil ones. Like when ODB bumrushed Shawn Colvin on stage at the Grammy’s. Or Yeezy did T-Swift. Street legal, son.]

So, guess what’s supposed to happen September 15? A 2.5 mile meteor is going to hit the continental United States! Coincidence? That’s called dot connecting folks.

Orrrrrrrrrrrrr there anticipating an attack by ISIS on Texas.

I’m pretty excited either way and making sausage cheese dip in anticipation.

We love a good apocalypse and front row seat to our own demise. There is this strange affection for extinction level events. In movies and real life. Like we want to be paranoid of government takeover under the guise of Jade Helm but we mostly can’t wait.

Pulling up a chair.

Written and performed by sintax.the.terrific. Produced by Dalama Jones.

Today’s blong here:

Keep Shuffling


The Scarlett Red and Royal Blue


Written and performed by theipoetlaureate. Music produced djclutch.

Today’s blong here:

How Do We Stay



What a week.

First, no pun intended, but I’ve been way under the weather.

Second, according to national news accounts a guy in a ski mask stole my SSN from the South Carolina Department of Revenue. Is that because it’s actually unseasonably cold in his apartment that he wears a ski mask or are cyber terrorists also avid downhill skiers?

With leather:

Apparently it’s freezing even when you’re physically floating inside the actual program code:

Dressed for success:

Wait. Those are my lips too! Have they no decency?!

And then last night Sandy affected unspeakable damage on the Northeast. My brother and his wife live in New Jersey and work in Manhattan and were thankfully out of harms way.

Both tragedies are difficult because they leave you with hardly any goat to scape. An anonymous hacker and mother nature. Like mayhem’s invisible hands. South Carolina and the Northeast are left to pick up the pieces without much hope for justice.

One bright note, I pity the ski-masked bandit that swipes my life and identity. Trust me, it’s no picnic being a news rapper. The crushing fame. The sophisticated and lucrative business deals. Carpool. Like O. Henry’s short story, The Ransom of Red Chief, I suspect that they’ll be returning me, to me, any day now.

All our thoughts and prayers are with those in the storm’s wake tonight.

Written and performed by theipoetlaureate. Music produced by djclutch.

Today’s song blog here:

Dean Winters


Electric Bill

In honor of NBC’s coverage of the London Games, I recorded this entry yesterday but am offering it on tape delay only now.

So, anytime that something happens to “half” of India, it’s a pretty big deal. Same with populations of “all the ocean creatures;” “all the women who watch ‘Chelsea Lately’;” and “all the people that saw this video.”

But, when that something also includes the loss of electrical power, it’s even more serious.

I know, right. Who knew half of India had electricity to lose?

After claiming that more than 600 million people were left without power for the failed grids, this Guardian article sheepishly ends:

But any connection to the grid remains a luxury for many. One-third of India’s households do not have enough electricity to power a light bulb, according to last year’s census.

So which it is it? A lot of people without electricity or a theoretical lot of people that could have been without electricity had they had electricity to start with?

It’s like some sick blackout of a blackout. Zero times zero.

Unfortunately for a population as subjugated as certain elements of India’s has been for millennia, even a half a billion times zero is still roughly zero. Just mostly what they had. Or I guess didn’t have. The essentials.

Humble-brag time. We support a boy in Sri Lanka named Aniket, who is almost, to the day, the same age as my son. We can’t even send him simple pictures of our home for the massive relative wealth it represents. And, trust me my crib is jumping.

There’s a fine line between the modern conveniences we swear “we could never live without” and the threshold accoutrements of life that all peoples in the 21st Century should expect to have, if they so choose. I’m beginning to count electricity among them.

So, the irony is that there is a power failure in India of critical human proportions. It just has nothing to do with this week’s grid failures.

I won’t link to it for the language, but the Onion.com has a pretty pitch perfect piece that nails the absurdist nature of the power going out on a country already, in so many ways, suffering a suffocating darkness.

[Olympic Note: What the heck happened to the Russian women’s gymnastics team?! What’s with all this crying and moping around. I want my soulless, killer-commie, soviet block, android gymnasts back. If Nadia Comenici had screwed up a floor routine, she would have done an Ivan Drago, raised her fist, and yelled at the fake Mikhail Gorbechev in the box seats, Ивана Драго я победа для меня!!!!” (Roughly translated, “I win for me! For me!!) I’m just saying. Russians don’t cry. Come on. These Olympics stink.]

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by Sundance.

Today’s song blog here:

Times Zero


Reading Between the Lines

You do this long enough and your mind starts conjuring those paranoid murals of irrationality out of news articles, linked by pushpins and colored string and collaged clipped phrases, indicating that surely all the world’s events are connected. Gibson in Conspiracy Theory or Crowe in A Beautiful Mind. The Heat won the Championship. Deadly Colorado wildfire. A million in the midwest and east without air-conditioning. Should have buried the power lines. The 100M women’s Olympic trial ends in a real-live and controversial dead heat at the finish line. Fourth of July and hot dogs. Katie Holmes leaves Tom Cruise because, while he is hot, he’s a nutcake. Well, maybe the last bit is a stretch.

Anyway. Heat. Fire. Power and finish lines. You can’t invent this kind of stuff.

But, the same seasonal heat that makes memorable our annual Fourth of July activities and celebrations, this year, has brought severe and permanent tragedy for many. We remember them, even as we’re thankful for so many blessings of God and country.

By the way. This is my 200th post. So, this one goes out to all the haters. (Actually, there have been exactly zero haters but that’s what you’re supposed to say when you make it. And, trust me, 200 self-important posts unquestionably means you’re made.)

Performed by ipoet. Music produced by Sundance.

Today’s song blog REMIXED here:

Dead Heat


Shrugging at Storms

A confluence of too many passions almost made my head explode tonight. So, I am an avid consumer of bloggingheads.tv, which pits in civil debate/discourse blogging and other professionally academic contributors. It is typically politically editorializing (a/k/a a hot poker in the eye for most). But, on Saturday, was posted this great exchange between Daniel Foster, of the National Review, and Jacob Haqq-Misra, a post-doctral scholar at Penn State concerning a paper on alien civilizations penned by Haqq-Misra and colleagues. Bottom line: politics, blogging, and UFOs. I really thought I had hit some sort of podcast lottery. If they had somehow incorporated a short segment on the advantages of a third round reversal draft in a 16-team auction league with PPR, I would have definitely slipped into a permanent and soothing brain coma. (I’m trying to see how impossibly abstruse I can make this entry.)

In related news, I’ve long been desparate for a great alien/human ground war movie. I thought Battle for LA was it. Quite to the contrary, it was maybe the worst xeno-militaristic movie ever done. It made, by contrast, Signs’ H20-intolerant E.T.s, and Independence Day’s, Norton Anti-Virus deficient space invaders, look actually conceivable. I was so furious. I think I may have already talked about this. But, my fury bears repeating.

To the story of the day, Hurricane Irene hit the Northeast. There were numerous projections concerning NYC and its largely underground infrastructure. Of course, by all accounts, the city sort of shrugged its collective shoulders at the storm and continued largely about its business. Sounds about right.

By the way, I am aware that NYC is neither the City of Pain nor Sin. But, “apple” doesn’t rhyme with either “rain” or “wind.”

Performed by ipoet. Music produced by dj clutch.

Today’s song blog here:

New York Blow


Wicked Witch

The midwest was devastated by storms this week. Joplin, Missouri in particular. 4 tornadoes turned the city into a literal landfill. The images cannot be believed. It looks impossible. This is an easy story not to pay attention to. Twisters are kind of whimsical lore. The bane of directional witches. Please look at the pictures. Inescapably real.

No ruby slippers to take them home.

Many are dead or missing. Here are their names.

Performed by ipoet. Music produced by dj transform.

Today’s song blog here:

No Ruby Red


Creek Don’t Rise

Towns in the midwest and south are being ravaged by the rising flood waters of the Mississippi river pushed over its basin. Livelihoods in the short and long term will be lost. The event threatens to revisit additional water damage on a Louisiana that’s had her share.

In today’s song blog, I’ve reprised both a deepspace5 song off of our most recent record, The Future Ain’t What it Used to Be, and what very well may be the best written song of all time, Ghost, by the Indigo Girls.

Thanks to both.

Performed by ipoet. Music produced by dj clutch.

Today’s song blog here:

Start to Drown